The Illusion of Love
by Knitchick
Summary: A one-shot based after the war. Will Severus Snape be willing to give up his lifelong love of one woman to take a chance at something new? EWE, slightly OOC, HG/SS


**A/N: Just a little fluffy one-shot while I work on two other stories. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. It's all the property of J.K. Rowling, I just like playing with her characters.**

Hermione took another shot of firewhiskey and shuddered as it went down. Now she understood why it was called firewhiskey … holy mother of all that was sacred, that burned.

She looked around at her fellow drinkers and smiled. Harry and Luna were snogging over by the couch, Ginny and Dean has claimed a window seat for their carnal activities... not sure what was happening there... but it wasn't her business; even Neville and Draco had disappeared, and she doubted it was to check for 'munchies' like they claimed. George was passed out on the couch, still mourning the loss of his twin, and the older Order members had gone to sleep... or at least to bed, hours ago.

Now only Ron, Remus and herself were left around the coffee table.

They were celebrating the end of the war, and N.E.W.T. results, all in one go, and because Hermione had gotten more N.E.W.T's than any other witch or wizard in almost twenty years, she had been encouraged … well, more like coerced, into relaxing for once and participating in the celebrations.

She had finally given in and joined in the drinking, something she had never done before, and was feeling pretty bloody good if she did say so herself.

Of course, that ended when she felt Ron's hand start to creep up her skirt. He had been very vocal lately about wanting to start a relationship with her … and she had been just as vocal turning him down.

She loved Ron, but Ron was … well, Ron, and she … wasn't. They truly didn't have much in common except Harry and fighting a war together. That made for great reunions, and a laugh or two over drinks at the pub. But a successful relationship? Not so much.

Besides, she had always had a thing for tall, dark, and broody wizards. Wizards with long slender fingers; brilliant wizards whose intelligence exceeded even hers, with an acerbic wit that one couldn't fully appreciate until it was directed at someone other than oneself.

A wizard like Severus Snape.

Things had slowly begin to change for her sometime during her sixth year; if asked to pinpoint the exact moment she began to see Severus as a man instead of a teacher she doubted she could. But one day, things had just been … different.

Maybe it was seeing him stumble into Grimmauld Place at three am, bleeding and exhausted from another meeting with Voldemort, and recognizing how he risked his life for the cause every time he returned to Voldemort's side.

Or maybe it was seeing him coming from the bathroom clad only in a towel the next morning, his slender, but very fit physique still glistening and damp; her body reacting to his presence in a completely new and foreign way.

A way that scared the hell out of her.

She had spent weeks trying to convince herself, and her traitorous hormones, that she couldn't possibly be attracted to a man almost twenty years her senior. A man who never smiled, rarely spoke to her except to criticize, and probably, she was convinced, still thought of her as a child, despite all physical evidence to the contrary.

She just couldn't seem to get him off her mind … or out of her dreams.

In her desperation to prove it wasn't Professor Snape himself, but her burgeoning hormones that were causing such extreme reactions to his presence, she attempted to assuage them with someone different.

First Ron, which had been a disaster right from the start. Then Thomas Wilkins from Ravenclaw … who, while better than Ron, still left much to be desired; and finally in desperation, she had even snogged Cormac McClaggen … which, in hindsight, had been the worst decision she had ever made.

He _still_ wrote bad poetry to her weekly; despite her myriad attempts to discourage him.

She finally gave up trying to convince herself it was impossible, and just listened to her heart … which for reasons she could hardly explain, much less understand, wanted Severus Snape and no amount of denying it would change a thing.

Now she was determined to take her shot at the enigmatic man. For better or worse, she would confess her feelings and see what happened.

But first, she had to find him.

He had been in the kitchen with Lucius before the drinking started. _Was he still there?_

She stood up and the floor seemed to have shifted some when she wasn't looking because she almost tripped before she was able to right herself. She apologized to Remus whose shoulder she used to steady herself, but he just waved her off with a shaky hand.

_Merlin, he must really be drunk._

She could hear Ron calling her back, but she ignored him. She was on a mission, and nothing was going to stop her from completing that mission. She had been enamored with the Potion's Master for over a year now, and it was time she declared herself.

She tripped over the rug outside the library … someone must have folded it over when she wasn't looking. _D__amn them. _And finally made it to the kitchen in one piece.

_Oh … OH! So this is where Neville and Draco went … OH! … now that was interesting. Didn't know that was even anatomically possible, but hey, to each their own._

So, he was _not_ in the kitchen, _not_ in the loo, _definitely not_ in the basement … but Kingsley and Hestia were.

Last stop, the study.

She opened the door slowly but was disappointed to find that while there was a lovely fire burning, the room was empty.

She sighed in frustration.

_Where was he? Could he have gone to bed already?_

If so, she knew it was a lost cause. He always warded his bedroom door against intruders, and doubted he would answer if she knocked.

She decided that being alone in here was better than being stuck in the library fending off Ron's drunk advances; she warded the door against interruption and headed for the sofa.

It was then that she noticed the figure laying across the aforementioned sofa reading, and she jumped back in surprise when he sat up.

"Miss Granger, kindly find somewhere else to be," came the tart voice of Severus Snape, "As you can plainly see, I was quite content enjoying the peace and quiet."

His sneer, while still impressive had lost a lot of its bite in the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat, and the public acknowledgment by the Ministry of his role as spy for the Order, but he was still just as gruff.

Just the way she liked him.

"I think … _not_, Severus," she intoned lightly, knowing he would be less than pleased at her use of his name. But it was past time he saw her as a woman, not a student.

"Miss Granger," he replied tersely. "I _have not_, nor will I _ever_, give you leave to call me by my given name, so please remove yourself from my presence and go bother someone else with your inane chatter."

She simply smiled and sat down next to him on the couch. He seemed stunned at her audacity … or proximity, she wasn't sure which.

"I think not Severus," she said cheekily as she scooted even closer to him, "You see, I have been looking everywhere for you, and now that I've found you I'm not very keen to leave just yet."

He stood abruptly, the book on his lap dropping onto the carpet; his expression stormy, "I don't know what kind of game you and your friends think you are playing at Miss Granger, but I want no part of it. If you won't leave, then I will!"

He started to walk towards the door, and she stood in a panic, "Wait!" she called; watching her plans go up in smoke if she didn't _do something_.

He didn't stop.

"Please! It's not … I'm not … I just wanted … _please_ stop," she cried out, and there must have been something in her voice that halted him, because he turned around and addressed her wearily.

"What Miss Granger?" he looked aggrieved and very tired. _W__hat_ do you want?"

She knew this was her one and only chance to speak her heart and she had no intention of wasting it.

"See, the thing is … what I want … well …" she took a deep breath, "what I _want_, what I've _wanted_ for over a year now," she paused to gauge his reaction, "is you. Just you. No games, nor tricks, just you."

She could tell by his shocked expression that was the last thing he had been expecting to hear.

"I know that you still love Harry's mum, and I know you probably think you always will, but having loved once, I believe you are capable of loving again if you just gave yourself the chance," she knew she was bringing up a very private subject, well, private until the _Daily Prophet_ splattered it across the front pages for everyone to see.

"I have admired and respected you for many years. Your bravery and loyalty are unquestionable, but I find your intelligence and wit to be your more attractive traits by far," she knew she was talking too fast, but she was afraid if she didn't get it all out at once, she might never, "and even your snarkiness doesn't bother me, It simply makes you even more unique."

She forced herself to slow down; it was important he _understand_.

"I guess what I'm trying to say, very poorly as it turns out, is that I am very attracted to you. I have come to care about you, and would very much like it if you gave me, and maybe even yourself, a chance to see if we could have something special."

She waited for him to respond, her heart racing and her expression hopeful.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Miss Granger, I am … flattered, that you find me attractive, but," her expression fell as he continued to speak; she could already feel the lump beginning to grow in her chest at the rejection she knew was coming.

"I … I'm sorry, I just don't think … it just wouldn't work," he said simply before turning and leaving the room.

She sank onto the cushion and felt the first tears start to fall before she angrily wiped them away. She had tried. Regardless of the outcome, she had taken the chance. Yes, she had been shot down, but at least she wouldn't have to live with 'what ifs.'

He obviously either wasn't attracted to her or was still too much in love with a dead woman to take a chance. Maybe he just preferred green eyed red heads. In which case, it was too bad Ginny was already spoken for. She had blue eyes, but had the ginger hair he seemed to like.

_NO!_

She would not do this to herself. She would not start nitpicking her faults to try and discover the reason she was found lacking … she deserved better than that. Someday, her feelings for him would fade, especially in light of his rejection, and she would move on and find a wizard who did appreciate bushy haired bookworms.

Hermione re-warded the door and settled herself on the couch; her heart heavy and her eyes sore.

Tomorrow he would be gone and she would never have to be alone with him ever again if she chose not to. She was taking the summer off before starting work as a Charms Apprentice to Flitwick, maybe she would use her university fund to travel a bit, or rent a small cottage somewhere no one knew her and have a tawdry and meaningless fling with some local hottie.

_Yes, that's exactly what she would do._

Once decided, she shoved her hurt away, and closed her eyes.

HG/SS

Hermione spent a month traveling around Europe, one Apparition jump at a time, but decided to spend the last five weeks of her vacation on the Irish Coast. She found a lovely cottage in Carna to rent for a reasonable price from a retired couple who were spending the summer with their daughter in Florida.

It was a cozy little two bedroom, with large picture windows, comfortable furniture, and an enormous fireplace; but it was the view outside the sitting room window that made it worth every pound she had spent on it.

Thankfully, she had come prepared, as the closest market was over two kilometers away, and while quaint, catered more to the local fisherman and only carried a few food staples. She set about unpacking her trunk and all of the groceries she had purchased in Dublin, before making a light lunch and a cup of tea.

She could already feel herself relaxing.

On her third day at the cottage, while happily ensconced in the back garden enjoying the light breezes off the water, a tawny owl landed on the table in front of her.

She had already received her weekly letters from Ron, Harry, and Ginny, so she couldn't fathom who else would be writing. She gave the owl a bit of leftover turkey from her sandwich, and removed the parchment.

Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the spiky handwriting, and she hastily put the letter down without opening it.

She had been very hurt when she left Grimmauld Place the morning after her disastrous proposal to Severus Snape, refusing to even make eye contact with her ex-professor while explaining her plans to travel for a month or two before starting up at Hogwarts.

Everyone had seemed surprised and appalled that she would be going on her own, but their protests fell on deaf ears. She simply _could not_ stay there a minute longer. She made a point of offering Severus a small smile and a nod to show she could be civil despite his actions, but didn't trust herself to speak.

She quickly hugged her friends while promising to keep in touch, and left before she did something incredibly foolish and humiliated herself even more. She could have sworn she had heard her name called as she Apparated away, but assumed it was Ron and never looked back.

Now she wondered if it had been _him_. Had he changed his mind or was he just looking for a chance to explain? To ease his conscience?

If the latter, he truly didn't have to bother, she really didn't want to hear about how much he still loved _that_ woman; the woman he had placed on a pedestal and decided none other would ever compare, despite the fact that she had obviously never loved him back … or at least not enough since she chose someone else over him.

Hermione doubted anyone would ever convince him otherwise.

_The stubborn fool_.

If he preferred his empty memories to a living, breathing woman who cared for him, than he could just be lonely on his own. She would not let it affect her any longer.

She had started her holiday with grand plans for of engaging in meaningless sex with a handsome stranger or two, but her plans had never come to fruition. Everywhere she looked she saw him, and every face she looked into seemed lacking somehow.

She had had her share of offers however, so even if _he_ didn't find her attractive, at least a few others did. But she just hadn't been able to go through with it.

His rejection had hurt her more than she cared to admit, and she wasn't sure she wanted to open that can of worms again just to find out it wasn't what she had hoped.

So, she decided to wait.

A week later, she still hadn't worked up the courage to open it. He had, after all, waited a month to even contact her, so it couldn't be that important. She knew it was cowardly, but she just couldn't risk her heart again.

With a determined air, she put the letter in her trunk and resolved to put Severus Snape firmly out of her mind … and her heart.

She pulled out her sketchbook and continued working on the drawing she had started a few days before. Growing up, she could always be found with either a book or a drawing pad in her hands at any given time. Drawing had always relaxed and centered her, but she hadn't had much time in the past few years to devote to it … what with trying to finish school and planning the demise of the greatest dark wizard in history.

She was just shading in the birds that danced along the shoreline, when a shadow fell across her page, and she looked up in surprise. The cottage was quite secluded and she hadn't had any visitors the entire time she had been there, and didn't expect any today.

Standing above her, looking nervous and out of place, but sexier than he should in a pair of black jeans and a button down shirt, was Severus Snape.

Her heart gave an involuntary leap at the sight of him, but she ignored it and stood awkwardly and addressed him.

"Professor Snape, what are you doing here?" she asked in surprise, praying her voice didn't betray her inner turmoil at the sight of him.

"You called me Severus before. I think I prefer that to Professor," he said, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, but as you so _kindly_ pointed out, you had not then, nor would you _ever_ give me leave to address you by your given name," she knew she sounded bitter, but she hadn't been able to suppress the twinge of pain at his remembered slight.

"So, Mr. Snape, what _are_ you doing here?" her voice came out harsher than she intended, but she truly wasn't in the mood to be messed with.

She was on holiday for a reason; to get away from everything that was causing her stress and pain, and the sooner he left, the sooner she could get back to forgetting him.

Or trying to anyway; as yet she had been less than successful.

He seemed taken aback by her harsh response, and sighed heavily, "Miss Granger, I believe we got off to a very bad start the last time we spoke, which is why I sent the letter … you did get the letter then?"

"I got it, but I have not read it Mr. Snape," she paused and looked at him, her eyes flashing, "Forgive my bluntness, but I really couldn't conceive of any reason you might have for writing to me after so long. Had you changed your mind you would have written much sooner, so I can only assume you were apologizing or attempting to explain your rejection, in which case, I truly had no desire to read about the great Lily Potter and how I'll never live up to a ghost. So if you'll excuse me, I'll wish you a good day, a safe journey home, and a pleasant life."

She turned abruptly and headed back into the cottage, her heart racing and her breath ragged as she struggled to get her emotions back under some semblance of control. Before she could slam the door, however, it caught on his foot and he entered behind her.

"Dammit woman, will you just stand still for two minutes and give me a chance to explain?" he shouted angrily as he followed her into the sitting room.

She whirled around and faced him once again.

"The way I see it, you've had plenty of chances to explain before now, and you _never_ took them, so why bother now?" All the pain of rejection came rushing back to her and she found herself saying things she had never intended to share.

"I get it, you're not attracted to me. You don't even _like_ me. I talk too much; I ask too many questions; I will never be as beautiful, as popular, as wonderful, or as _perfect_ as Harry's mum … I _do_ get it," she knew she probably sounded like a crazed harridan, but she couldn't seem to stop the flow of words from escaping.

"Please don't feel like you have to explain just to make yourself feel better, because honestly, I would really rather you just left. My ego has taken enough of a beating from you over the years, Mr. Snape, and I'm really not up for a battle of wits with you right now," she was so angry, she was almost panting, "You can show yourself out."

She moved towards the bedroom door intent on locking herself in until he was long gone, but she was suddenly pulled back. She whipped around, her anger at his audacity growing stronger by the second.

"WHAT?" she yelled, when she was facing him again, "_What do you want?_

"You," he said quietly, his eyes hopeful, "I just want you, Hermione," he said, repeating the very words she had used on him months before.

Her shocked brain could barely process the words, and she struggled to clear her head as the first faint stirrings of hope came alive in her breast.

"You see," he began tentatively, something that surprised her almost as much as his words. Severus Snape didn't _do_ tentative or hesitant.

"the thing is, you _do_ ask too many questions, and you _do_ talk too much, but those aren't the things I like most about you. I like that you are brave and caring, and more loyal than I think even your friends deserve," he continued, his voice becoming stronger at her rapt attention.

"I also like that you are incredibly intelligent, tenacious, resourceful, and will be an asset to any employer lucky enough to have you."

Her reached up and gently closed her mouth, which had evidently been gaping open in surprise at his words.

He took her hands as he continued to speak. "And despite what you believe, I think you are incredibly lovely, far too alluring for my piece of mind, and absolutely perfect … for me."

When she still hadn't said a word, he sighed and led her to the couch and sat down next to her.

"You see, I fell in love with an illusion twenty years ago. She was my first friend; the only light in my otherwise dark world, and I fell in love with her. I was jealous when I thought she had shared private information with James Potter, the boy who lived to torment me, and I called her a horrible name."

Hermione knew the incident he was referring to from the memories she had watched when they still thought Severus was dead from Nagini's bite, but she remained quiet.

"No matter how much I begged, she refused to forgive me and I held onto my illusion of her for far too long; even vowing to look after her son … the boy I always felt should have been mine."

Hermione tried to pull her hands away, her heart twisting every time he mentioned his love for another woman, regardless if she was dead or not, but he refused to let go.

"I hated Harry from the first because he was James' son and not mine … but Lily was not mine, had _never_ been mine," he added sadly, and her heart went out to him despite her frustration.

"It wasn't until the night you propositioned me that I began to realize it. I was in love with a memory, and to be honest, not even a very accurate one."

She felt his thumb gently rubbing the back of her knuckles, even the small contact making her stomach clench, as his words started the hope in her chest to swell.

"I spent the entire night torn between complete incredulity at your words, denial that a relationship between us could ever work, and hope that you would forgive me for being a total arse and give me a chance to have that conversation again."

She was struggling not to get her hopes up too much, but her heart was racing. "But … Lily?" she asked softly.

She could not … _would not_, be a substitute for someone else.

"You are so much like Lily; its uncanny actually," she stood up and pulled her hands away, her heart plummeting at his words.

"I won't be some stand in for a ghost. I'm sorry." she said; her voice filled with angry tears that she refused to shed. It was very clear that things would not work out between them if he was trying to use her to fill the space Lily left behind.

"No! No, Hermione," he stood quickly and grabbed her hands again before she could snatch them away, his tone frantic, "I'm really making a bloody mess of this," he said, almost to himself, "you are _not_, nor could you _ever_ be, a stand in for Lily," she knew her face must have betrayed her hurt at his words, and he spun around in anger, both hands dragging through his hair in frustration.

"You see, this is why I don't do relationships, because everything I mean to say comes out wrong," he softened his voice and looked at her pleadingly, "Please sit down Hermione and let me try to explain what I mean before you storm off again."

That was the closest Hermione had ever come to seeing Severus Snape beg, so she decided to hear him out before she threw him out the door.

"When I said you could never be a stand in for Lily, I only meant that you are a much better person than she ever was, and therefore there is no contest. Lily could be kind when it suited her, and there was no doubt about her intelligence, but she was not very forgiving … obviously," he added bitterly.

"She could also be extremely vain, and loved being the center of attention. She broke things off with me when the other boys began to pay attention to her and then suddenly I became an embarrassment," he looked pained, and Hermione found her heart softening at the unwitting cruelty Severus had endured at the hands of someone he loved.

"_You_ have never been overly concerned with your looks," realizing his words could once again be misconstrued, he added quickly, "not that you have to, as I said before, I find you very beautiful," he added a sheepish smile, which she returned. "You forgive your friends far more often than they deserve, time and time again, and you are loyal and caring and kind, and not just when it suits you … but all the time."

She smiled at his compliments; her heart considerably lighter. Maybe someday she would tell him all about her less than kind behavior towards Malfoy, Umbridge, Remus, and even her friends on occasion. Right now though, his words were slowly filling the hole in her heart.

"I spent seven years watching you grow into the beautiful woman you are today, knowing that you were way too good for the likes of me, so it was easier to convince myself I was still in love with a memory because that was all I had. I expected you to run off and change the world, or marry Weasley and have a dozen babies that I might be forced to teach someday." he sounded pained at the thought, and she really couldn't blame him.

The thought pained her as well, but maybe not in the same way.

"When you approached me, I thought it was a joke at first, and then I was so stunned by your words that I acted before I had time to process what you had said … but by then I was too late. I chased after you as you left the Burrow, but you either didn't hear me or chose to ignore me."

So, it had been his voice calling her.

_Would she have stopped had she known?_

She honestly didn't know.

"I spent the past month trying to convince myself that you actually meant it, and then trying to come up with the words that would convince you to give me another chance."

He stepped closer to her and wiped away the tears that she had been unaware were falling silently down her cheeks; his eyes filled with an emotion she had never before seen.

Was it? Could it be … love?

"I would very much like you to call me Severus, and I would like it very, very much if you would give this old fool another chance. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

She didn't speak … she was unable to find words, she simply threw herself into his arms and kissed him, pouring out all of her hurt, all of her anger, all of her forgiveness, and finally, all of her love.

He responded in kind.

A very long time … and many, many kisses later, Severus, wearing a contented smile that made him look almost ten years younger, spoke, "A little birdie told me you will be Apprenticing with Flitwick for the next three years to become a Spells Mistress, is that true?"

She smiled at the man who in such a short time, had made her happier than she had ever remembered being in her life, and nodded.

"Well then," he answered as he pulled her back into his chest so he could nuzzle her soft curls, "I guess I better let Minerva know I _will_ be able to resume teaching after all … but only on a three year contract. After that, I prefer to keep my options open and just follow my heart," he gave her a gentle kiss that was as much a promise as it was a declaration.

And she knew, that for better or worse, Severus Snape was her wizard.

And this love was not an illusion.


End file.
